


Punto Blanco

by Hinotori



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkwardness, Consensual Underage Sex, First Crush, First Time, M/M, Underage Drinking, Underage Masturbation, but like, just mentioned in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25188295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinotori/pseuds/Hinotori
Summary: Oikawa has had a big fat crush on Jose since he frst met him and tries to act on it years later.
Relationships: José Blanco/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	Punto Blanco

**Author's Note:**

> Ready to get cancelled by the HQ fandom

Most people, he figures, don't really remember the specifics around the first time they got aroused - the hows and the whos that caused it, or the whens and wheres it occurred. Sure, some details might linger, but usually you're young when it happens, so all that remains is just a smell or a hazy image.

For once, though, Oikawa can say he's different.

He has a vivid recollection of exactly the who and the when and the where (though the how is a little vague, but hey). He's also aware that he'd been younger than anyone likes to think or talk about children being in this context. This suits him just fine, since it's a private memory, embarrassing though as it may be. During his second year in elementary school, he and Iwaizumi had raced each other to the pro match being hosted in their area. The whole event had been exciting and overwhelming, especially for a child, and had admittedly changed his life. Seeing Jose Blanco and the things he could do, the way he played and his presence on the court, had given Oikawa a sense of purpose and direction even back then, and encouraged him to pursue his passion for volleyball with a clear idea of what kind of player he wanted to be.

But it had also stirred something else inside him.

Oikawa's not sure if it'd be fair to blame it just on the fact that he'd been young or in awe of the pro standing before him. Even now, fourteen years later, he's struggling to admit that getting someone he admired's signature on his _jockstrap_ of all things had contributed to the way he'd spent the following evening. He hadn't been sure what he's doing or why he felt the way that he did, but he'd held that cloth tight around his penis until he'd soiled it. He guesses that's why his mother had ended up washing it after, so, embarrassed, he'd tried to just keep it against his chest or clutched tight in his hand from then on.

So yes, if he had to pinpoint his first time jerking off, it would be after meeting Jose Blanco.

When the opportunity to meet with him again in high school had presented itself, a lot of those feelings had resurfaced. It's not like Oikawa had ever _forgotten_ about his fascination with Jose as more than a player, rather that his feelings finally clicked into place and made sense. So, naturally, after jerking off to the guy for nearly five years, it's awkward talking with him for the first time. Oikawa stands throughout the whole thing, ends up oddly sentimental as the guy before him easily sees through his façade and pushes him to admit his actual feelings. Even as he shyly steps from foot to foot in an attempt to not cry, he's grateful for the encouragement and the honesty he'd been able to share with a, frankly, complete stranger.

His knees are still shaking when he finally makes it to the nearest toilet and gets off through tears. It's better than before, now that he can clearly hear the man's heavily accented English and how he'd said his name in his mind and isn't going off of just a mumbled "gambari" from half a decade prior. Next time they speak, he decides, he's going to _taste_ 'Oikawa' on the man's tongue.

Of course, the confidence and determination that his arousal had given him in the privacy of the stall had quickly evaporated upon their next meeting. He'd still tried to flutter his lashes a bit, desperately trying to remember and recreate what got to _him_ when girls tried flirting. They speak more about ambition and technique and when Jose squats to show him a stable setting position close to the ground and the shorts ride up his thigh, Oikawa's mind goes blank. So he's left furiously masturbating on his own again after (though not crying this time!) and cursing himself a coward. When his thoughts clear, his face flushes at the thought Jose might have seen that he's hard earlier.

The third and fourth times aren't much different, and Toru's getting increasingly frustrated. Which is silly when he actually thinks about it - he's a minor, and even if he wasn't, he's not sure if Jose is even _into_ guys. If he actually makes a move on him, it could ruin the man's career and reputation _and_ jeopardize any credibility and future Oikawa himself had. Looking down, he frowns at his cock's leaking tip; he's never had that much stamina before.

The fifth time, Jose seems tired, as their meeting had been sudden and he'd just finished with coaching for the day. Oikawa'd been upset and in pain, knee throbbing after a particularly harsh save during a practice game. So Jose had invited him over (Toru calms himself with thoughts that this isn't a big deal, half a year is an appropriate amount to know someone before inviting them over, plus foreigners aren't really like people here and are more open and this is just a rental, anyway, and so on). This time there's no polite reason to decline when he's invited to sit down just as Jose takes a seat across him on the floor.

Oikawa drops his bag, swallows, and sits himself in the man's lap.

He can hear his own heartbeat as the two stare at each other. Jose clears his throat. Toru's about to get up and bolt out the door. As he goes to stand, he gets tugged down by the wrist. As if to accentuate the meaning, the man mumbles something poorly strung about 'this being dangerous' in (arguably improved) Japanese. Oikawa nods and wants to apologize, but he's selfish, so he keeps quiet instead, somehow hoping this will go his way. And maybe that he won't spit out his own heart before it does.

"You're sure you want this?" He manages another nod. Jose raises his eyebrows at him. There's a hand on Oikawa's thigh.

"Y-yeah," he says and it's croaky and stupid but apparently it's enough.

A sigh. A smile. Jose's eyelids droop.

And then he's being pulled in and kissed.

The next part he both loves and dreads remembering, since he'd finished in his pants long before any clothing had come off. Jose had _laughed,_ though not mockingly. Toru'd cried either way and had gotten a tender embrace, a soothing hand rubbing circles in his back. It'd been wonderful in its own right, even if he'd been embarrassed enough to drop dead, but he couldn't for the life of him focus on any of that while he was sitting on the man he admired's half-hard cock.

"I know what it's like, I was young once, too!"

Jose had texted him first afterwards, allowing four or five days to pass so Oikawa could get his bearings. He'd only asked if he's okay. It'd made Toru giddy and distracted during practice, since all he'd wanted is to chat more with Jose. In the locker room two hours later, he'd seen an invitation to swing by for some more 'strategy talk' if he's up for it, accompanied by some emoji even Oikawa found obnoxious. Needless to say, he'd run the entire way there.

That evening, he'd gleefully accepted a beer and it had helped him break out of his awkwardness and actually relax. They'd laughed, and drank some more (which he would've usually considered to be ill-advised, but he'd been planning on even more ill-advised things anyway), and ended up with Oikawa crawling on top of Jose and clumsily trying to kiss him. He lets the man handle and maneuver him however he pleases and the knee between his thighs is almost enough to get him to come. But he somehow resists, and is even proud of himself when Jose murmurs what sounds like praise against his lips in his native tongue. Toru wants to touch the man, feel his arms flex, but he is too preoccupied with trying to keep himself from collapsing. This apparently suited just fine, as Jose kept kissing him, grinding his knee against Oikawa's crotch and making him squirm and leak through his shorts.

Before long, a hand slides between them and fumbles with tugging down both their pants enough to get their cocks to rub together. Oikawa pulles away from the kiss then, gasping and promptly burying his face is the man's shoulder. Jose fists them both and begins stroking, keeps shushing him, telling him he's doing good. It's too much and Oikawa's finds himself spilling over his idol's stomach before long. Jose'd accompanied him in the shower after and kissed him once more before driving him home.

For the following year or so, it'd gone like this. They'd meet, sometimes just to talk, sometimes just to rub their dicks together and make out, sometimes both. Sometimes, they even played some volleyball. It had made Oikawa feel happy and acknowledged, gave him a sense of being good enough. Half a year into it, he'd asked Jose if he could suck him off. He'd gotten off on that alone the first time, rutting against the floor and doing a, in retrospect, awful job of handling the massive, twitching cock in his mouth.

Ever since then, his fantasies had developed into ones of getting fucked. Sure, he'd imagined it before, but _tasting_ him had given it all proper shape and had unwound his brain into a pile of silly string. Still, Jose had refused until he was sure that Toru was sure. Which of course he was, he'd been thinking about it nightly and daily for _months_.

Some time after Toru's seventeenth birthday, Jose had told him he'll be going back to Argentina soon. It was inevitable, of course, but the news had still saddened him. It's not like they were dating or in love or anything of the sort - he'd just been Oikawa's teacher and support in many a moment of need and seeing him go was painful.

"Before I head out, though," he'd purred at him after a few minutes of silence "I want you to sit on me like the first time."

Oikawa'd blushed and looked away, pouting, Jose often brought their first intimate encounter as some fond memory, but it was just embarrassing to think about. Still, Toru obliged him and made himself comfortable on his lap. Even if they'd been in this position many times since, he suddenly realized how much he'd grown. It gave him more confidence as he ground down on the man beneath and bit his lips. He'd definitely learned plenty from Jose.

"Yeah? And now what?" He allows himself a cheeky smile, a look he usually reserves for kouhai and people who piss him off. Jose stares him down, obviously unfazed but playing along. The jerk lies back, hands behind his head and smirks at him.

"Show me how much you've grown, Toru."

And that he does. He can proudly say he's gotten better at sucking dick, considers himself proficient, even. So he spoils Jose, decides to show him his appreciation through actions and not words. The way the man tries to keep confident and swallow his moans doesn't go unnoticed, and neither does the way his thighs quiver when Toru licks a long line from the base to the tip of his cock while staring him in the eyes, seemingly unamused but still flushed. He usually needs both hands _and_ his mouth to properly pleasure Jose, but, given that this might be the last time, he allows himself to take one hand off. He uses it to reach into his shorts and tease his hole, muffled groans vibrating down the shaft that he swears is touching his vocal cords.

It takes Jose a while to notice but, once he does, Oikawa suddenly finds himself on his back, pinned down with a tongue replacing the dick down his throat.

"Fuck, you can't do that and expect me to be reasonable-"

Toru licks his lips, smirks at him. There's a challenge in his eyes, even though his own cock is angry and red and wet.

"Who said we need to be reasonable?"

Jose shakes his head but is smiling, and Oikawa knows he's won. The man slides down, settles between his legs and pulls his pants halfway down his thighs, lifts Toru's legs in the air. Before he can ask what all that’s about, he's getting kissed at the other end and _shit_ that's different and good and is making him thrash on the floor and pull on Jose's hair with the hand that's not occupied with keeping his own voice down. He couldn't reasonably say how long it goes for, maybe minutes, maybe an hour, but by the time the man's done with him, his hole is a twitching, sloppy mess. Jose sits back on his haunches, stroking his cock and admiring his handiwork. Even if it's embarrassing, Toru forces himself to keep his legs up and let him enjoy the view.

"You're gorgeous, amore." Oikawa snorts, bites his lip again. Can't look away even though he wants to - his eyes are glued to the leaking length in front of him. He wants to say something but his mouth is dry and his mind is buzzing. Thankfully he doesn't need to say anything, as Jose lines himself up and slowly pushes in. Toru grabs at the floor for purchase, has time for just one gasp before he's full to the brim and man, that's _definitely_ thicker than the handle of his hairbrush. "Good?" He manages a nod and wraps his arms around Jose's neck, pulls him down for a kiss. Maybe for the first time he actually _tastes ‘_ Oikawa’ on his tongue.

He's known what he'll do after graduation for years. He's never told anyone, not even Iwaizumi - it had been his secret, his ambition, his own private goal that noone had access to. Oikawa likes to think this had helped it all come true, had helped him work harder as he'd had noone to share the burden of his potential failure with.

But now, on the other side of the globe, under Jose's guidance and in the Argentinian volleyball league, he feels accomplished. While he still loves volleyball and enjoys the praise and compliments from teammates, opponents and mentors alike, he's really here for something else and can finally push all of that to the back of his mind.


End file.
